


It works best if you give a description of someone we both know

by alikatastic



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Badass Ian Gallagher, Canon-Typical Violence, Good Sibling Iggy Milkovich, Guns, Protective Iggy Milkovich, mention of cannon rape, only good deaths here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alikatastic/pseuds/alikatastic
Summary: Ian's reaction to Terry walking in on them never sat well with me. So, what if Ian actually fought back? What if Iggy showed up and was a good brother? What if we saw more of the Gallagher manipulations from Ian? What if we kind of got a happy ending?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 122





	It works best if you give a description of someone we both know

Ian could hear Mickey screaming for his dad to give him a chance to explain, but he knew it was pointless. Terry Milkovich had been looking for a reason to kill him for ages. Ever since he charged into the Gallagher house, blaming Ian for getting Mandy pregnant, not that he had, and it made things worse. Now both Lip and Ian knew his secret, but none of that mattered now. Terry had walked in on Ian quite literally fucking his son. Ian knew he was going to die; he expected it.

Mickey had always said if Terry ever found out, he would be the one to die, but Terry punched Ian first. He hated how quickly he was taken down, especially since he should have expected it. He knew he was screaming with the next few blows landed, but he couldn’t be bothered with it. He was trying to wiggle his way out from under the large man. He knew if he could get to his feet, they would be on more even territory.

He moaned in relief when Mickey jumped on Terry’s back, pulling him off, but it was short-lived. Terry was beating the life out of Mickey. The way he saw it, he only one option, and it was stupid. Ian hit Terry with a sucker punch bringing his attention from Mickey. Terry stood menacingly, with his fists balled up and his face turning red. Ian took a moment to try and get the upper hand. He hit Terry with a right hook that sent him staggering. What he didn’t expect was for Terry to charge him, laying him flat on his back, again. This time though, his hands were free. He could freely swing up at Terry. He punched as hard as he could over and over again. If he could feel it, his face would probably be on fire; the adrenaline was helping him for right now.

Mickey kicked Terry in the face dislodging him from Ian. Mickey helped Ian to his feet as Terry struggled to his. Ian was proud of the damage he had inflicted on the older man, but when Terry pulled a gun, pointing it in his direction, the world seemed to freeze. He was going to die half-naked next to an equally naked Mickey, not that it would matter; no one would ever find their bodies. Lip would probably assume they had run off together and wait weeks to start searching. That is if anyone would notice.

What they did not expect was to hear the clearly noticeable sound of a pump-action shotgun from behind them. Ian almost thanked the heavens as he was reminded of the time Mandy had saved their skins, but his body jolted when he heard a more resonant voice speak.

“What’s going on here, dad?”

Ian wanted to turn around; he knew it was one of the brothers, but he couldn’t pinpoint which one. He did chance a look at Mickey, but it did not answer any of his questions. Mickey was just as confused as him, but it was more likely a question of if his brother was there to help.

“The fuck is this, Ig?” Terry spat.

 _Oh, Iggy._ – Ian thought. He didn’t know much about Iggy except he was only two years older than Mickey, and he was the soft one. Iggy didn’t go on as many runs and didn’t like bashing skulls like his brothers did. Mickey had always spoken of him as if he was so much better than the rest of them – too kind. Ian had never equated kind with a Milkovich, but now he was hoping that Mickey was right. Or maybe he wanted him to be wrong and see Iggy blow Terry’s head off, but he knew that wasn’t a possibility. 

“What are you doing? I told you to leave Ian Gallagher alone, especially after the thing with Mandy. And we both know you won’t kill Mickey, so what are you doing?” Ian was glad he had scored a few brownie points with the man for helping Mandy, it wasn't why he did it, but it was a plus.

Terry shifted his weight, squaring his shoulders. He stepped forward, pressing the barrel of the gun to Ian’s forehead. Ian didn’t flinch; he wouldn’t give Terry the satisfaction. Mickey gasped when Ian smiled; he couldn’t help it. He wouldn’t quail under the likes of Terry _Fucking_ Milkovich, the daughter raping and child beating cunt that he was. Ian squared his shoulders and bought his hands up to his chest as a show of compliance.

“Easy now, Terry. If I die, my family will tell all your secrets.” Ian spoke with confidence, even though he knew that he would be shaking if he had less control.

Mickey inched closer, but Ian couldn’t spare him a glance. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, and every hair on his body was standing on edge. Ian didn’t want to die like this, but he didn’t honestly think he had a choice; it wasn’t in his hands.

“Fuck you, you stupid aids monkey. You’ve ruined my youngest two, turned them against me.”

Ian chuckled, stepping closer. He thought if he planned this correctly, he wouldn’t even need Iggy to fire a shot. He could end this with one, albeit complicated, move. It was something he had practiced and accomplished many times in combat training, but he wasn’t sure if he could pull the trigger.

“Are you going to kill me, old man?” Ian shifted his right foot forward. “Are you going to risk it getting out that you rape your own daughter?”

It all happened so quickly that Mickey couldn’t even tell you what happened. Ian shifted, grabbing the gun with his right-hand while jabbing Terry’s elbow with the left. He quickly headbutted him, sending him back. Ian promptly turned the gun on him, ready to pull the trigger, but Iggy did it first. Terry was dead on the crappy wooden floor, and blood was pooling around him. When Ian felt it touch the tips of his toes, he jolted back; he didn’t expect it to be so warm.

“Fuck.” Mickey whispered, looking away from Terry’s dead body.

He looked at Ian who’s face was black and blue; his eyes were swollen nearly shut, and Mickey wondered how he could even see to get the shot off. Not that it mattered, Iggy had shot Terry in the chest. The buckshot would have ripped Terry’s heart to shreds.

“You two need to get out of here,” Iggy said calmly.

They both turned to look at him. His face was sad and resigned. “No, what we need to do is call 911,” Ian said. “You need to get rid of that gun, and we need to get our story straight.” Ian looked to Mickey for support.

“How the fuck could we explain this?” Mickey threw his hands up into the air.

Ian shrugged, “Off the top of my head, we were home when someone came in to try and rob us. Terry came to our rescue, pulling a gun.” Ian lifted the one in his hand. “The guy shot Terry and left, so we called the cops. It works best if you give a description of someone we both know.”

“Works best?” Mickey asked.

“Terry came to the rescue?” Iggy asked.

Ian knew they were skeptical, but he knew it would work. “Yes, works best, and most people know Terry was always ready for a fight. Why wouldn’t he try to pull a gun on some jackass robbing his home?”

“I don’t know, man.” Mickey ran this thumb over his bottom lip.

“Look, if we are going to do this, we need to do it now. Iggy needs to get out of here with that gun, and we need to call the cops. So, what are we doing?” Ian asked, clearly fed up.

Iggy and Mickey shared a look; then Iggy booked it out the back door. “Let’s get some clothes on,” Mickey said.

Ian grabbed the landline and dialed 911. “Please hurry. My friend’s dad has been shot. I don’t think he is breathing.” Mickey was startled at the exact manipulation and fake tears Ian could produce as he pulled on his pants with the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. “No, there’s no heartbeat.” Sobs made it hard for him to breathe, but it would sound good on the recording. “I don’t understand.” Ian pulled on his shirt, looking at Mickey, making sure he was dressed. “Some guy came in and fucking shot him.” Ian calmed down, letting tears trickle down his face. “No, he left. After he shot him, he left.” Ian looked up when they heard the sirens. He franticly motioned for Mickey to show some kind of emotion. “The cops are here.” He hung up the phone and nodded to Mickey. “Describe Frank without saying it’s him. They won’t arrest him, but it could be entertaining.”

Mickey stood off to the side with his hands embedded in his hair, trying to exude despair as Ian cried. The cops ate it up, surprising Mickey. They were separated and brought down to the station to be questioned, which made Mickey nervous. He gave the best description of Frank that he could and had to bite back a smile when he found Ian waiting for him outside the precinct. After a few blocks, Mickey finally sighed in relief and punched Ian in the arm. 

“You’re a fucking con-artist, man.”

That made Ian laugh. “Duh, I’m a Gallagher; we can’t all be drug dealers and thugs like the Milkovich’s.”

“Fuck you.” Mickey shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, you’ve done that before?”

Ian sighed; he didn’t like talking about it too much. “Yeah, a few times. Frank always gets us into some stupid shit.” Ian looked at Mickey’s bloody face. “Let’s go get cleaned up at my house.”


End file.
